Surreal Estate

by Jesi Lea Ryan

  Get out. Get out. Get out.

  Trevor dragged his visible hand along the side of my face. “Good. You do look pale though. Maybe I should run you a bath. You can relax while I fix you something to eat.” He reached behind me to the dead bolt and turned the lock. The click of the tumbler set my teeth on edge. A feverish heat swept over me, leaving me stuck somewhere in the middle of fight and flight.

  Trevor hustled me deeper into the condo, through a dark master bedroom and into a huge bathroom with a tub the size of a small swimming pool.

  My vision rolled into another horrific scene. Worse this time. Handcuffs dangled from an exposed pipe in the shower, a leather flogger lay on the floor, and sexual aggression filled the air. A little kink play was one thing, but this . . . Nothing about it felt like consensual games.

  Get out. Get out. Get out.

  Trevor turned the water on, testing the temperature with his hand, and then squirted scented bath oil in.

  “Now let’s get you undressed.”

  Still half-disoriented from the onslaught of vibes, I turned away from his reaching hands and leaned on the vanity counter. That was when my gaze fell on the ghost of a strange object on the counter. There was a thin metal rod attached by an electrical cord to a controller. I squinted through the fog of the vision to read the writing on the remote. Fetish World’s Electro Shock Penis Sound. Unable to hold back any longer, my gut turned, sending the remains of my ice tea splattering into the basin.

  “Oh, honey! You really aren’t feeling well, are you? I’ll take care of this.”

  Trevor leaned around me to turn the sink tap on and used the glass beside his tooth brush to splash water over the mess. Then, he set a cap-full of mouthwash for me on the counter. My legs shook with disgust and fear. I half sat and half fell onto the edge of the tub.

  I didn’t know if it was the puke or what, but Trevor eased up on the lechery. “Let me get you some water.”

  His footsteps trailed away. Once I was reasonably certain he was gone, I let out a shuddering breath and frantically ran through my options. Was I strong enough to fight the guy off and get out of here? Not if he had a knife, and not with me feeling as shaky as I was. Even if I could get to a window or balcony, we were too high up for me to go anywhere.

  Frustrated, I drew myself up to the counter and lifted the blue mouthwash. I swished and spit, to get rid of the vomit taste in my mouth. What in the hell am I going to do? I still had my phone. I pulled it out and started to dial 911, but stopped. What would I tell the cops? That I’d picked up a guy in a bar and now was getting visions of blood splattered around his apartment? Shit.

  I dialed Nick instead and sat back down on the edge of the tub.

  He picked up on the second ring. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” I whispered. “I need help.”

  “Is there a problem at the house?”

  “I’m not at home. Look, I don’t have a lot of time here. I’m sort of trapped in this creepy guy’s condo, and I’m scared. Can you come get me?”

  There was rustling over the line, and I hoped it was Nick springing to action. “Where are you?”

  I gave him the address that Trevor had given the cabbie. “Fifteenth floor, apartment C.”

  “Is there a doorman?” The ignition of his truck sounded in the background.

  I knelt down in front of the vanity to check under the sink for a weapon of some sort. Nothing but a stack of towels and a couple of spare rolls of toilet paper. “No, but the front doors are locked. Think you can get one of the other residents to buzz you in?”

  “They damn well better let me in. Does he have a gun?”

  “Don’t know. All I saw was a knife, but he doesn’t know I’m onto him yet. I told him I wanted to leave, but he wouldn’t let me go. And now I’m feeling sick—”

  “Sasha? Can your stomach handle pasta?” called Trevor. I had just enough time to stash the phone in my pocket before he stepped into the bathroom. “Oh, honey, why are you on the floor?”

  “Sorry,” I said, letting him help me to my feet. “I got woozy.”

  He started peeling my shirt from me. “You’ll feel better once you’ve had a soak in the tub and some food in you.” I raised my arms so he could yank the T-shirt off. “Fuck, Sasha, you are exquisite.” He ran his too-soft palms over my chest. “Your skin is like velvet. And you’re unmarked . . .”

  He leaned in to nuzzle my neck. I had to grip the edge of the sink to keep from pushing him away. Unmarked? Was he talking about tattoos or something? I remembered his fascination with my bruise, and I shuddered.

  “Um, what was that about pasta?” I asked, hoping to get him to give me space and buy time for Nick to get here.

  Trevor drew back, still clutching my hips. “Oh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be all over you when you’re not feeling well. Let’s get some food in you, and I bet you’ll perk right up. I have tortellini in the freezer, and I can heat up sauce. Sound good?”

  I nodded and tried my best to look like the thought of eating didn’t make me want to hurl. “Yeah. Sure.”

  Trevor stepped away. “Need help getting undressed?”

  “No. I’m good.”

  “Okay, then. Enjoy your bath.” He kissed me on the mouth before leaving. “Oh, and leave the door open so I can hear you if you need me.”

  When his steps retreated, I snatched the phone out again. “Still there?”

  “Yes,” Nick hissed.

  “What should I do?”

  “Play along with him. I’ll be there in less than ten. Don’t hang up the phone. I want to be able to hear what’s going on.”

  “Okay.”

  “And Sasha?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t let that fucking asshole touch you.”

  I placed the phone on the counter and set my T-shirt over it. Hopefully the material would be thin enough for Nick to hear. I finished checking the cabinets and the linen closet for anything I might be able to use to protect myself. I picked up a can of hair spray and thought about squirting it in Trevor’s eyes. Something like a spark lit up my mind as I envisioned how deliciously painful that would be. His eyes would turn red with the sting, tears would pour down his face as his body attempted to flush the chemicals away.

  I dropped the can on the floor and squeezed my eyes tight. No, I couldn’t let the emotions of the condo overcome me. Trevor might be an aggressive jerk, but I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I dredged up an old memory of the dog I’d had when I was eight. Sparky. He was an old stray lab that had followed me home from the playground, and even though I’d only had him for a few months before he died, that dog was the closest I’d ever come to being in love. I focused on the feeling of lying in my bed next to him on a Sunday morning. Stroking his fur. Slowly, the urge to hurt Trevor subsided. For now. If I didn’t get out of here, it’d be back.

  I heard footsteps in the hall, but couldn’t tell if they were headed my way. Shit. He’d be pissed if he had to tell me to get in the tub again. Nick had told me to play along, but taking my clothes off would make me more vulnerable. I had to hope he wouldn’t take too long.

  Not knowing what else to do, I shucked the rest of my clothes off and climbed into the water. It was a little too hot for my taste, and the smelly bath oil coated my skin with slippery slime. I shut the tap off. I wished Trevor would have given me some bubbles. I hadn’t had a bubble bath since I was seven years old, but at least they would shield my nakedness.

  A few minutes later, Trevor returned with a glass of red wine. Seeing me sitting cross-legged in the middle of the giant tub, he shook his head. “You really don’t know how to relax, do you? Come here. Lean back. That’s it.”

  He knelt down on a folded towel and stroked my hair. “Why don’t you dunk your head?”

  “I don’t want to get that oil in my hair.”

  “Ah, I bet these curls are temperamental.”

  I nodded and tried not to cringe at his touch. The desire to snap his fingers off swelled in m
e, and I focused my thoughts on old Sparky again.

  Trevor raked his gaze over my naked form now stretched out the full length of the tub. The predatory look was back, and I had to force myself to stay still and allow the violation of his stare.

  “Damn, Sasha, your body is a dream. I wish I could get in there with you. Maybe slowing down for food is a good idea though. A quick fuck isn’t going to be enough.”

  “How’s dinner coming?” I asked, not really caring, but needing to get him off the subject of sex.

  “It’ll be about twenty minutes yet. Long enough for you to have a nice soak.” He reached in to give my flaccid dick a stroke. I twisted out of his grasp, and he leveled a glare at me. “I thought you liked me?”

  “Sorry. I just . . . I need some time to get back in the mood.”

  He removed his hand and wiped it on the towel. “Okay. After dinner, then.” He stood and left the glass of red wine on the side of the tub. “I know you said you don’t drink, but one glass of merlot will help settle your nerves. I’m going to check on dinner.”

  Once he was gone, I slumped back in the tub again. “Fuck, Nick. Hurry up.”

  Getting into the building had been easy. I’d pressed buttons until a tinny voice had answered through the speaker.

  “Yeah?”

  “Police,” I announced. “Buzz us in.”

  Either my gruff voice had been convincing, or the person on the other end of the line really hadn’t given a shit who they let into their building, because the door buzzed right away.

  When I reached the fifteenth floor, I rapped on the door of apartment C. I stood there with my toolbox in hand and what hopefully was a bored expression on my face. Inside, I was seething. The thought of someone hurting Sasha had me wanting to claw out of my own skin to get at them. Him being in trouble had me bordering on a rage that I hadn’t known I had in me. How could anyone want to harm Sasha? He was kind and thoughtful and smart. It made me sick that someone wanted to hurt him. There was something about the guy that had my protective instincts jacked up to ten, and I wasn’t leaving here without him, even if I had to take this door off its hinges. I took a calming breath and knocked again.

  There was movement at the peephole, then a gray-haired guy cracked the door open, leaving the chain in place. “Yes?” he asked, clearly irritated.

  “Maintenance. Unit below yours is getting water raining from the ceiling. You busted a pipe in your bathroom.”

  He looked me over, and I prayed he wouldn’t realize no working plumber would ever show up to a job wearing workout clothes and gym shoes.

  “There’s no water in my bathroom. I was just in there.”

  “Of course not. That’s because it’s running down inside your walls and spraying all over your neighbor’s unit. If you don’t let me in to fix it now, you’re going to have to explain the liability claim to your insurance company.”

  The man slammed the door shut and removed the chain. “Fine. Come in. But give me a minute. I have a guest in there bathing.”

  I resisted the urge to deck the guy and go retrieve Sasha myself. Barely. “Hurry up. I need to get to that pipe.”

  The guy strode to the back of the unit, obviously pissed off. Nothing in the place appeared to be out of order. The pot on the stove was going to boil over any minute, but I didn’t care enough to turn the burner down for him. I fished my phone out of my pocket and listened through the still-open line while the man hustled Sasha out of the tub.

  "No need to get dressed. Just put my robe on.”

  A fresh wave of adrenaline flooded my veins, and I squeezed the handle of the toolbox. After decking this perv, I wanted to sling Sasha over my shoulder and cart him out of here.

  The guy returned with Sasha, who was wearing a paisley bathrobe. He carried his clothes in a tight bundle against his chest. Seeing he was unharmed, I let out a sigh of relief.

  “That all your stuff?” I asked Sasha.

  He nodded. “And my guitar’s by the door.”

  “Get it, and head to the elevator.” I set my toolbox on the floor and made a show of cracking my knuckles. Sasha did as he was told, and I stood like a sentry, protecting his path to the elevator.

  “Wait a minute,” the old guy said. “What’s going on here? I thought you said there was a leak?”

  I didn’t say anything, just stared at him with eyes narrowed to slits.

  “Sasha, wait—” As the guy tried to get by me, I grabbed his shirt collar and slammed him against the wall, the force knocking a framed picture askew.

  “The next time a guy tells you he wants to leave, you sure as fuck better hold the door open for him. Got it?”

  The momentary confused expression cleared, leaving behind eyes filled with hate. “He called his boyfriend? Christ! The kid came on to me!”

  My jaw clenched at the thought of Sasha wanting this creep. “And he changed his mind. Simple as that. If I ever see you within a hundred feet of him again, you won’t be conscious long enough to regret it.”

  I shoved the guy toward the sofa, where he landed across the back in an ungraceful heap. Then I picked up my toolbox and strode out the door to where Sasha stood holding the elevator. I jabbed the ground-level button over and over until the doors closed. After we descended a couple of floors, I pressed the Stop button, causing an alarm to sound.

  “Get dressed,” I said, careful not to look anywhere but the floor so I wouldn’t inadvertently see the reflection of Sasha’s nakedness. I tightened my fists to keep my hands from trembling. Now that we were out of that apartment, my conflicted emotions had me wanting to either lash out at him for being so stupid or hug the shit out of him.

  “Done,” Sasha said, and the contrite tone ripped through my anger and made my chest constrict. I pushed the button to start the descent again, then whirled on Sasha.

  “Jesus, Sasha, are you okay? He didn’t hurt you?”

  “I’m fine, but he scared the shit out of me.”

  “What were you doing with a guy like that?”

  “I . . . Well . . . he seemed nice.”

  “If you want to hang out with someone nice, don’t go home with a stranger. Call a friend or something. Or, hell, call me.”

  Sasha’s lip twitched. “Uh, Nick. I don’t think you’re into my way of being nice.”

  “Don’t assume shit about me.”

  I stepped forward, tangled my fingers in those loose curls, and smashed my mouth on his. He gasped, and I took full advantage by licking in along his tongue. What started out hard and frustrated and scared, downshifted into tender as he began to kiss me back. He tasted like cigarettes and man. Who knew that was such a heady combination? The hair of Sasha’s patchy beard felt strange on my face, so that even with my eyes closed, I knew who I was kissing. And fuck, it was hot.

  Sasha’s essence filled me and made my heart race. It had only been a week since we met, but I felt like I’d been waiting for this kiss my whole life.

  In the back of my mind, I registered the elevator doors opening on the empty lobby and then closing again. I didn’t care. I was too busy taking all my fear and worry out on Sasha’s mouth, sucking and biting. Sasha gave as good as he got, reaching around to my ass and drawing our bodies close, sending delicious friction to my cock. I gave an experimental pump of my hips, and Sasha groaned.

  “Jesus, Nick.”

  I gazed into his molten eyes, still clutching his tangly curls.

  “Don’t freak out on me, Nick.”

  “Not freaking out,” I murmured. “Just looking.” And I wasn’t freaking out, not yet. Maybe not ever. If I were being honest with myself, I’d half wanted him since that first day of demo. I’d feared the image of him leaning against that doorframe holding his shirt up like an invitation was permanently burned onto my retinas. And yesterday when he’d been carrying heavy scraps of wood out to the trash, I hadn’t been able to tear my gaze from his lean arm muscles all corded and strained.

  My reaction to him had had my brain spinnin
g in a thousand directions. At first, I’d chalked it up to not having dated anyone in while. But why this guy? Why now? Maybe it was that he was the only person who truly believed I’d be able to pull off this risk with the house. I loved it that he was as excited as me when talking about my plans to restore the place. Could this attraction simply be my need for someone to trust in me?

  I ran the side of my thumb along his jaw.

  Sasha was . . . beautiful, I guessed. Lips kiss-swollen. Eyes bright with lust. Was it weird to think that about another guy? So what if it was? I wanted . . . I didn’t know what I wanted. Just him. I wanted him. And I wasn’t sure what to do with that.

  The elevator doors opened to the lobby again, this time revealing an old lady and her dog wanting to get on. I reached for the toolbox at my feet and stepped out, and Sasha followed, guitar case strapped to his back. I grinned as he rolled up the bathrobe and chucked it behind a potted fern. Good. I didn’t want that prissy thing in my truck.

  My truck sat in the parking lot at an angle. I hadn’t even attempted to stop between the lines. Sasha didn’t comment, just tossed his guitar in the back and hopped into the cab. It took three stabs to get the key into the ignition. I pulled out of the parking lot and turned in a random direction.

  An uncomfortable silence settled between us, so thick it could have fogged the windshield. We were both stuck in our heads, but I couldn’t tell if Sasha was thinking about that incredible elevator kiss like I was or about the creepy apartment.

  Okay, so maybe I was freaking out a little. Who wouldn’t? I kissed a guy! And, truth be told, I’d liked it.

  I wasn’t completely ignorant about these kinds of things. I grew up in a house with Steven, who was the only out-and-proud kid in our high school. And our parents were actual card-carrying members of PFLAG. Damey and I’d had the most liberal sex education of any of our friends, and while it had been embarrassing to talk with our parents about it at the time, I now knew enough to understand that sexuality was more complex than just gay and straight. I thought that was why when I had felt attraction to guys in the past, it hadn’t sent me into some weird spiral where I questioned everything about myself. I’d just figured if I never acted on it, that meant I was straight.